• Published 23rd Apr 2017
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Magic School Days - Dogger807

When the CMC asked Discord to help them attend magic school, he pulled an owl out of his hat. Only he didn't exactly have a hat. Which was okay, since their new school had a singing one laying around. Where the hay was Hogwarts anyway?

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Chapter 16: Legal Babble

Chatting lightly among themselves, the Gryffindor boys followed Hermione to their second class. Herbology had been interesting, maybe more so for Neville than for anyone else. The first class had consisted of some very basic plant knowledge and a detailed tour of the first greenhouse. There were several greenhouses, but the first-years were only allowed in one. Supposedly, the plants could get dangerous in the others.

“So, Harry,” Dean teased, “what’s it like having a marriage contract?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Harry replied; he had honestly put the concept out of his mind during class. “I’ve never had one before. I’m not even sure what to say to Sweetie about it.”

“That much is obvious,” Seamus snickered.

“You’ve got years to figure it out,” Hermione informed Harry. “The contract doesn’t become effective until you both turn seventeen.”

“Me,” Ron interjected, “I wanna be there when you tell your owl.”

“Hedwig doesn’t need to know,” Harry hastily proclaimed, sending Ron a glare. “She needs time to forget the whole ‘eating owls’ thing.”

“Eating owls?” Hermione inquired, turning to look at Harry. “I think I’m missing something here.”

“Sweetie asked if owls were good to eat.” Ron shrugged as he continued, “While she was holding Hedwig’s cage. Why do you think Scabbers hides whenever her name is mentioned?”

“Scabbers is a rat.” Seamus protested, “He shouldn’t care if people eat owls.”

“She asked about eating rats earlier,” Ron said, “while we were getting ready for the train. He’s been terrified of her ever since.”

“You’d think she’s never had meat before, the way she goes on at meals,” Dean observed as they turned a corner.

“She does like her meat,” Neville agreed as Hermione silently assimilated the fresh information.

“First a phoenix, now a unicorn.” Dean added, “Whatever she’s hiding, it’s gonna be a doozy.”

“She’s not hiding anything!” Ron insisted roughly, placing his hand on the back of his head.

“Well, whatever she’s hiding, Ron knows what it is, and it doesn’t seem to bother him,” Hermione noted, causing Ron to scowl in her direction.

“I doubt there’s anything about Sweetie that would surprise me anymore,” Harry said as they reached the History of Magic classroom, only to find that the rest of the Gryffindor first-years had already taken their seats.


Dumbledore took a deep breath when Alice reached the end of her list of bribes. “Miss Rutter,” he said, “your accusations will be the end of Minister’s Fudge’s career, as well as the careers of several ministry employees. How confident are you of the accuracy of these claims?”

“Sure enough to bring them to light during the Rite of Iustitia est Infirma,” Alice told the Chief Warlock, absently wiping the sweat off her palms onto her dress. “Or have you forgotten that the rite punishes those who knowingly make false accusations?”

“Very well.” Dumbledore directed his gaze toward Fudge. “Minister, you are not the current target of the rite, but you are to be given the opportunity to deny these charges due to being indirectly implicated. Be warned, any lying will trigger penalties. True, they will not be as harsh as if you had falsely denied murder. However, you can at least expect to lose your magic if you are so bold as to knowingly speak falsehoods.”

The Minister of Magic sourly took to his feet, sweat visibly gathered on his pudgy forehead. “Wizards and witches of the Wizengamot, esteemed members of the press, and witnesses in the gallery,” he said, making all-encompassing gestures with his hands, “it is apparent from her display, that Miss Rutter has a vendetta against Lucius Malfoy. And let us be honest, it is a well-grounded and appropriate vendetta. Without a doubt, the previous administration was lax in its application of pardons, taking the word of a mass murderer over the wellbeing of the wizarding public. In her fervor to do harm to Malfoy, it is obvious Miss Rutter has misguidedly brought suspicion onto others. We should not let such a pointed grudge color the entirety of our government. Instead, we should see to properly punishing those who have perpetrated such heinous crimes as this Death Eater. As such, I propose an investigation into everyone who claimed being under the Imperious Curse excused their serving He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. If you lend me your support, I will gladly head such an investigation myself.”

“There was a notable lack of ‘I did not accept any bribes.’ in that speech,” one of the members of the Wizengamot noted. Then, after a second they continued, “My apologizes, Miss Rutter. I did not mean to interrupt your rite.”

Alice waved dismissively at the commenter as she watched Fudge wince. “Are you telling me,” she said to the Minister, “that your entire defense consists of ‘There are bad people out there, so if you don’t hold me accountable for my crimes, I’ll do the job I was elected to?’”

“Now, now, Miss Rutter.” Fudge raised his hands placatingly. “There’s no need to be hasty. I’m sure we can work this out.”

“Yes or no,” Alice sighed in distaste. “Did you accept these bribes?”

“Chief Warlock Dumbledore,” Fudge implored, “are you going to allow this woman to interrogate me? Do I not have a right to present my case before the Wizengamot?”

“Let it be recognized that the Minister has been given the opportunity to deny the allegations under rite and has refused to do so.” Dumbledore wacked the podium with his gavel. “Perhaps the matter shall be elaborated on after the rite. However, since they are not something the accuser can demand retribution for, they are to be tabled at this time.”

Fudge almost sighed in relief until he noticed that many of his most steadfast supporters were glaring at him angrily from their seats. Belatedly, he realized that almost all of them would be targets of the investigation he had just called for.


“Come on, ‘Hogwarts a History’ specifically said that this class was taught by a ghost.” Hermione looked with annoyance at the now-typical response to the castle spirits. “You’re not going to scare him away, so you might as well just get used to him.”

Seeing her words had the desired effect, she turned and continued, “That goes for you three as well. Ginny, get down off Parvati; I don’t think Lavender is anywhere near as strong as Apple Bloom.”


Dumbledore smiled benevolently at Alice. “Miss Rutter, once again, I ask you if you are done with the rite?” As entertaining as this was proving to be, he needed to bring the matter of guardianship of Harry Potter before the council.

“And once again I say that I’m just getting started,” she responded. “By right of conquest, I hereby claim the Malfoy House seat.”

Dumbledore actually chuckled at that one. “I cannot say I didn’t see that coming,” he said, sotto voce. Then, addressing the assembly, he continued. “Miss Rutter is laying claim to yet another ancient law. Are there any here that wish to dispute her claim?”

Silence meet his query. The pureblood faction readily conceded that they were losing their most influential seat. They knew that, short of Malfoy swearing he did not commit the crimes alleged, there was no basis to dispute the claim.

“Welcome to the Wizengamot.” Dumbledore bowed slightly in Alice’s direction. “It seems that once this rite is done, we will have two new members today.”

“Also,” Alice continued as if the seat were not crucial, “Malfoy is responsible for the deaths of greater than three times three wizards. He purposely brought several family lines to an end. The incidents each occurred on different occasions, on the orders of an individual who had declared war on the magic-born of Britain. The law is clear; he must either present sanctioning authorization for his actions, or he must be branded a traitor and thrown into the veil without delay.”

Once again, Alice had caused the room to grow quiet. There was no mention of Azkaban, this was a direct demand to end Lucius’ life. There was a time when the man could have counted on the Minister to call for a more lenient sentence, solely on the power of his office. The reason Alice had continued to voice accusation after accusation even after Malfoy was to be penalized in excess of one hundred percent of his holdings was now evident. Her goal had never been the man’s wealth. Retribution was all well and good, but it paled in comparison to vengeance.

“Surely,” Dumbledore said into the stunned silence, “you would consider showing some mercy. There is no need to invoke that particular law. Think of his family.”

Alice’s eye shot to the Dumbledore and her next words lacked any warmth, “I am showing his more mercy than he has shown mine. What part of ‘He murdered my father and raped my mother.’ do you continue to fail to understand?”

Silence reigned for a few seconds more, then Dumbledore tried again. “Do you realize what you are doing here today?”

“Yes.” She nodded her head. “I am doing your job.”


Two individuals met in the common room of the Three Broomsticks Inn. Their services had been paid for in full, and, in truth, they were looking forward to the task at hand.

The students and teachers would all be in class right now, so it made sense to wait until lunch before heading up to the castle. Fates willing, this would prove to be an interesting day.


How had he been reduced to this? Just an hour ago, his biggest worry had been the loss of political power to an upstart brat; now he had to worry about the loss of his very life. Curse the old laws! This was exactly why they were kept hidden.

He would not beg for his life. That was precisely what the mudblood was hoping for. If he was going down, he was going down with dignity. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him beg. He still had his pride, even if he had nothing else to call his own. He couldn’t even claim his wife, with that wench Rutter’s claim of conquest, he lost even that.

He could take solace in the fact that his son would be provided for. He would not be here to guide his offspring, but he had ensured that opportunity would be ample for young Draco.

Never would he have suspected he could be brought low in such a manner. What was this witch’s source? There was no way she could have collected that intelligence on her own. She had help. She was only a figurehead, not that the knowledge would do him any good. This wasn’t Dumbledore’s style; there had to be a new opponent in the game, and his or her first move was to remove a major player from the field.

The move had been skillfully made. There were no cracks to exploit, no ignorance to take advantage of. The rite would ensure his demise, one way or the other.

He wasn’t ready to die. Still, he would not beg.


Beaten, Dumbledore let his shoulders slump. “Very well, Miss Rutter; it would take a two thirds majority to overturn the implementation of the traitor’s law. Does anyone sitting today wish to call for the vote?”

Once again, the members of the Wizengamot only returned silence for the proffered question. No one wanted to associate themselves with the doomed man.

“Lucius, will you say nothing in your defense?” Dumbledore addressed the accused.

“I will die with my magic intact,” was the only reply.

“Please restrain the condemned.” Dumbledore continued once he saw that the path had been set, “He is thusly declared traitor; in accordance with the law, he will be put through the veil after the completion of the Rite of Iustitia est Infirma.” Two aurors, who had just happened to be standing behind Malfoy, rushed forward to take him into custody. With a whimper, Malfoy was removed from power.

Concentrating on Alice once more, Dumbledore raised a questioning eyebrow.

Smoothing her dress, Alice stood taller and intoned her next step, “In accordance with the Rite of Iustitia est Infirma, I accuse Corban Yaxley of willfully murdering my mother. I further accuse him of raping her and being an accomplice to the murder of my father. I demand retribution!”

Seeing the writing on the wall, Yaxley promptly leapt to his feet and aimed his wand at Alice. “Avada Kedavra!” he thundered only to give a look of dismay when nothing happened beyond him being dogpiled on by a trio of aurors.

“Is extreme stupidity a crime?” Alice asked as they bound Yaxley without the aid of magic. “Because I’m pretty sure the Chief Warlock said no magic would work. No, wait, stupidity can’t be crime; Fudge is our sitting minister, not a resident of Azkaban -- at least not yet.”

“Are you so intent on making enemies today?” a reporter from the “Daily Prophet” asked from the first row.

“I don’t plan on leaving any of them standing.” was Alice’s reply as she pulled a second scroll from her satchel.

“Good,” the reporter said, flipping the page of his notepad, “we haven’t had a two-day Wizengamot spectacular in quite a while. Though with Sweetie Belle and now this, it’s going to be murder deciding what tomorrow’s banner headline will be.”

Realizing that today would not be a good day to bring up guardianship issues, Dumbledore waited for Alice to start reading from her new scroll.


Judge Judith Brown, no relation, sat behind her office desk and greeted the foreign witch and wizard, “Good morning, Mrs. Belle and Mr. Discord. Welcome to Britain. I have been informed you wish to see me in regards to the guardianship of a minor.”

“Yes, your honor,” the beautiful woman with purple hair said from her place in the visitor’s chair, “I have recently been made responsible for the child, and I fear that other parties will abuse their authority and try to circumvent my legal rights.”

“So, you have legal custody at this time?” Judge Brown was one of the three judges responsible for most custody issues that did not require a fully convened Wizengamot.

“Yes, Harry’s aunt has signed her rights over to me.” Mrs. Belle pulled a bundle of papers out of her purse. “I have my copy of the paperwork right here.”

The judge accepted the proffered papers and scanned the contents. “You have custody of Harry Potter?!”

“Yes, your honor.” Mrs. Belle nodded while her companion sat back and observed.

“And you’re a foreign national,” Judge Brown said, putting the paperwork on her desk. “Did you have anyone in particular in mind when you said there might be opposition?”

“Harry’s previous magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore,” Mrs. Belle answered, lacking any of the reverence normally associated with the name.

“Of course.” The judge put her face in her hand. “It just had to be Dumbledore. You do realize you just handed me a nightmare.”

In response, the woman took her wand out of her purse and said, “I, Rarity Belle, do swear that I have Harry Potter’s best interests in mind and do not seek him out for political purposes. I further swear that my actions are the result of learning of his circumstances caused by Albus Dumbledore, whom I fully believe does not have the minor’s best interests at heart. So mote it be.” A pulse of magic punctuated her declaration.

Judge Brown had tensed when the woman had drawn her wand without warning, only relaxing when it was returned to the purse. “A little warning before you pull your wand would be appreciated,” she admonished, once more perusing the paperwork. “Tell me about these circumstances you mentioned.”

Surprisingly, it was her companion who sat forward to answer the question.


Dumbledore waited calmly for Alice to finish with her list of grievances against Yaxley before formally offering the man a chance to rebut. “Mr. Yaxley,” he intoned, “you stand accused of fifteen counts of murder, fifty-seven counts of accessory to murder, as well as multiple charges of bribery, intimidation, rape and torture. You may swear to innocence on any of the charges at this time.”

One of the aurors standing next to the bound Yaxley removed the gag needed to allow Alice to finish her accusations.

“You mudblood bitch!!” Yaxley began screaming as soon as he was able. “You dare stand in the master’s way? You fool! You are nothing! I deny all of your lies!”

That’s as far as he got. Abruptly, the magic in the room grew heavy and there was loud snap. A surge of power rushed into Yaxley, or maybe out of him, or perhaps even both, and then everything was still. No one moved, least of all Yaxley. He would not be moving on his own again.

“I claim the Yaxley house seat by right of conquest!” Alice pleasantly announced, and, as one, the room turned to her expectantly.

“You can only hold one seat at a time,” someone from the audience insisted.

“True,” Alice agreed. “I hereby give the Yaxley seat to Greg Miller.”

“But,” A Wizengamot member from the pureblood faction complained, “he’s a muggle-born!”

“Why yes, yes he is.” Alice beamed as she reached for yet another scroll from her satchel. ‘Nott, you’re next.”


The morning classes passed by quickly, with Hermione being the only Gryffindor to be awake at the end of History of Magic. Even Magah had lost to slumber, sleeping where she stood.

“I can’t believe he didn’t say anything about you bringing a unicorn to class,” Dean said as they were packing up after class and the teacher had left through the wall.

“I can’t believe the class is taught by a dead person.” Scootaloo yawned and stretched. “Don’t they have a decent retirement plan or something?”

“Look on the bright side,” Lavender said, and her classmates focused on her.

“Well?” Ginny asked when that was as far as she got.

“Give me a second,” Lavender said. “I’ll think of something.”

“Ah coulda gotten just as much out of reading the book as ah did out of this class,” Apple Bloom grumbled. “More even, since ah don’t read in a monotone.”

“But the information is so fascinating,” Hermione insisted as she stuck up for their teacher. “So what if the presentation was a bit dry?”

“A bit dry?” Ron said with indignation. “He could make a quidditch match boring.”

“Ron,” Hermione commanded, “don’t exaggerate.”

“He wasn’t exaggerating.” Parvati stuck up for Ron. “That was a chore to stay awake.”

“You’re not helping,” Hermione informed her.

“Sorry,” Parvati shrugged, “was I supposed to be?”

“We should probably do something to liven up the class,” Sweetie Belle suggested.

“Like what?” Scootaloo asked. “Perform a resurrection?”

“Could we do that?” Harry asked fixing his gaze on Scootaloo.

“Don’t know,” she admitted. “We could ask Twilight.”

“Who’s Twilight?” Dean asked, coming over to pet Magah.

“One of mah sister’s friends,” Apple Bloom supplied. “She knows everything.”

“What are the odds of her actually knowing a viable resurrection spell?” Hermione’s interest was piqued. “After all, the professors here obviously don’t have one.”

“Pretty good actually,” Sweetie Belle said. “She has access to the Royal Library. Besides, she’s the Element of Magic.”

“She has access to a royal library?” Hermione squealed.

“Calm down, Hermione,” Seamus said. “It’s just a library.”

“Come on,” Sweetie said, jerking her head toward the exit. “Let’s go write Twilight a letter.”

“To the owlery?” Lavender asked.

“To the owlery,” Parvati confirmed heading out the door.


Alice watched as they added Mr. Goyle to the group of restrained wizards. Her plans had gone perfectly so far; the known Death Eaters no longer sat on the Wizengamot. It hadn’t even been remotely difficult. All it had taken was some knowledge of the law and the willingness to implement the right course. She wondered why none of the so-called families of light had not done the same.

“You have gotten a great deal of usage out of the rite Miss Rutter.” Dumbledore intruded on her musings. “It is safe to say that the very dynamics of wizarding politics have been waylaid this day. You did say that Mr. Goyle was your last objective currently in the room, so is it safe to assume that we are done with the rite for now?”

“Yes, I’m done with the rite for now,” Alice agreed, and a majority let out the breath they had been holding in anticipation.

“Very well.” Dumbledore banged his gavel once more, and the magic retreated from the chambers, leaving doors where there once were blank walls. “Then we shall adjourn until after lunch, say two o’clock. It has been a busy morning, and some of us must still witness the proceedings down at the veil.

With that grim reminder, the aurors began funneling the condemned out of the chambers. They had a short trek to make, the longest of their lives.


Twilight looked up from her reading as the beating of muffled wings announced the arrival of a messenger. Perched next to her own owl, Owlowiscious, was a large barn owl.

“Hey!” her assistant, a purple baby dragon by the name of Spike, said. “What’s with the strange owl?””

“He’s probably just delivering a message from the Crusaders,” Twilight said, trotting up to the owl stand. “Apparently owls are a common means of communication where they’re going to school.”

“Great, just great.” Spike crossed his arms and griped, “Another of my jobs that owls are after.”

‘I don’t think you have to worry about it,” Twilight said, examining the new owl. “They still have to fly from Point A to Point B, while your flames are much faster.”

“Whatever.” Spike was unconvinced.

“If you could wait a minute, I should have a reply for you to take back.” Twilight addressed the owl who bobbed his head in consent.

Wrapping the message in her magic, Twilight floated it close to peruse. “Oh, look, they’re asking about resurrection spells. I remember looking into those when I was a filly.”

“Resurrection spells?” Spike sounded doubtful. “Aren’t those dangerous and outside their skill range?”

“Nah.” Twilight made her way to a bookshelf and started browsing the titles. “They’re basically harmless. They are fun to play with and pretend that they’ll work. Basically, without a spirit to work with, they are useless, and where would the girls find an honest to goodness, fully manifested spirit willing to help?”

“You’re sending the Crusaders looking for ghosts?!” Spike exclaimed in alarm.

Twilight openly laughed, taking a book down from the bookcase. “Spike, there’s no such things as ghosts. These spells are just theory; they teach some necessary fundamentals about magic, disguised as a subject that just about every young filly takes interest in at some time or another. They’re harmless fun.”

“Did you actually use the word ‘harmless’ in reference to the Crusaders?” Spike asked, suspiciously eyeing the book Twilight was levitating.

“Spike, they’ve been at magic school for less than a week,” Twilight admonished as she levitated over some brown paper to wrap the book in. “There’s no way they can cause havoc with this book; it’ll just be good for laughs.”

“I don’t know Twilight.” Spike still hadn’t uncrossed his arms. “Something just seems fundamentally wrong with sending the Crusaders a book on resurrection. If anypony can figure a way to make it work, it’ll be those three.”

“Spike,” Twilight insisted as she put her hoof down, “unicorns have been laughing at these spells for generations. The Crusaders aren’t going to miraculously make them relevant. They are a good learning tool; that is all.”

“Oookay,” Spike groaned as he gave up, “if you say so, but I still think it’s a bad idea.”

Twilight grumbled something about paranoid assistants as she prepared the book for delivery.


“Today has been a day of surprises,” Amelia Bones commented to Dumbledore as they exited the veil’s chamber. “The pureblood faction is all but decimated, Fudge is as good as out the door, and we now have a significant number of seats held by muggle-born.”

“It has indeed been extraordinary.” Dumbledore stroked his beard. “And I fear we have more surprises in store. Miss Rutter did not seem to have played her hand out as of yet.”

“You think she has more planned?” Amelia shook her head as she followed the Chief Warlock. “I mean, it’s obvious she has more planned, but I doubt any of it will be as earth shaking. She got what she was after.”

“There are former Death Eaters out there besides the ones who sat on the Wizengamot.” Dumbledore was still upset that he couldn’t prevent the loss of several family lines today. “I doubt very much that they will escape her attention.”

“Hopefully not,” Amelia agreed.

“Hasn’t there been enough death already?” Dumbledore sadly asked of her.

“Yes, that’s why we need justice to be meted out,” Amelia said, either mistaking his meaning or ignoring it completely. “Old family lines are no reason to withhold justice.”

“Indeed.” Dumbledore let his disappointment fill his voice.


The Gryffindor first-years were sitting at the lunch table when the barn owl returned bearing a large package.

“That was fast,” Parvati noted as the bird landed by Scootaloo to be relieved of his burden.

“Maybe Discord sent the owl back in time to make its delivery,” Sweetie answered taking another bite from her corned beef sandwich.

“Is that even possible?” Parvati asked in alarm.

Sweetie just nodded her head yes and continued to chew.

“Well, what did she send?” Hermione’s curiosity overrode her good manners. “Is that a book?”

Scootaloo quickly removed the brown wrapping paper and held up her prize. “Yup, it’s a book.”

“So, this Twilight just happened to have a book on resurrections lying around.” Dean reached for a corned beef sandwich of his own. “Is that normal?”

“Well, she does live in a library,” Apple Bloom informed him. “She has a lot of books just lying around.”

“’Ten Easy Resurrection Spells and Basic Exorcisms for When You Succeed’,” Hermione read out loud. “That title sounds real encouraging.”

“Twilight wouldn’t send us anything dangerous,” Scootaloo said, digging into her salad. “At least not without sending a written warning five feet long.”

“Maybe we should skip the resurrection and go directly to exorcisms,” Neville said, also reaching for a corned beef sandwich.

“Nah.” Harry shook his head. “I’ll bet they’d get real mad if we exorcised a teacher.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t experiment on him,” Lavender suggested. “There’s supposed to be an annoying ghost in one of the bathrooms; maybe we should start with her.”

The group all agreed that would probably be wise as they continued with their meal.

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